Letter from
Richard Henry
Lewis to his
uncle,
June 6, 1852
Lewis, Richard Henry
Page [1]
Chapel
Hill
June 6th 1852.
My Dear Uncle.
It is finished — my school-boy days are passed — And I am
at last launched upon Life's great sea. I cannot realize it, that I, who have
been going to school for nineteen years, am at last free. The idea is
unsupportable, of working for oneself after being worked for so long. But
"Every dog has his day", and I am not exempt from the common
lot.
After easing myself of my "o'er burthened soul" with the above
"lofty" sentiments, I now come down
again. I have already prepared a home for myself in the shape of a snug little
schoolhouse in Person. The name of the Post Office is Mt. Tirzah. When I get domiciled up
there I will give you a description of things "round about."
But for the present I am living at No. 4 West End Chapel Hill. The
Court End being at the other end of town. The origin of the latter name is
evident.
I went to
my ball the other night and enjoyed myself
exceedingly, and strange to say I did not dance. No, not once; for
Page [2]
Miss — — was not there.
But there was one there whose expression of countenance was so much like
"
hers" that I sat and gazed the
live long time. Wherever she sat down, I sat down opposite and feasted my eyes.
And when she danced Oh! ye powers what a resemblance to the fairy like movements
of —. I stood as one entranced. I spent the whole night thus. The
name of the ball-room belle was Miss , of
Warrenton. And well worthy was she to be the belle. But this is a
"tender" subject, so we'll e'en drop it.
Almost every student has left the Hill, and
"A quiet now reigns all around".
It seems more like the "deserted village" of Goldsmith memory,
than a living, breathing, inhabited town. The very villagers themselves look
lonely and sad. The dogs even slink around the corners and howl for their
masters, who have cruelly left them here to be killed with
"ennui."
I cannot help contrasting this place with a nice, sweet little place away down
among the pine clad regions of Old Edgecombe. Just to
think what dreariness and solitude reign here, and what joyful liveliness reigns
there. There the very trees seem to sing and be glad as they bend their lofty
heads to the passing breeze. Here, a dead feeling seems to pervade the very
forests.
There is one bright spot in
Edgecombe's piney forests, around which memory loves to
dwell.
Page [3]
Around which cling, fond and pleasing
recollections.
But "away with melancholy." We had a wedding in town the other
night — Thursday night the night of the ball. Did you ever hear of
such a thing. The parties were Mr.
Benj.
Hedrick
and Miss
Ellen Thompson.
Can you tell me what a person must do, when he has nothing to do. I'm just in
such a "fix" exactly. To be sure there are ladies here, and
pretty ones too; but you know a fellow gets tired of visiting, when he is not
"particularly interested" in any of those whom he visits. One
of the reasons why I am writing this moment is because I'm tired of reading,
smoking and looking at the rain, which is even now gently falling and sprinkling
every tree with glittering gems.
I wish you would give publicity to the following notice, as information is
greatly wanted up this way
Stolen, Lost, or "Miss"laid.
A fine looking and quite handsome young man. About twenty two
years old; generally goes by the name of Sam, although that is
not is real name, that being Joel.
Said boy is about five feet nine inches high, with bushy
whiskers, (at least he had them when last seen by the
subscriber) as black and fierce as a Don Cossack's. He has black
eyes, and an occasional twitching of the mouth.
Page [4]
Said boy would pass for "same" in a crowd where
he was not known. It is suspected that he is lurking about Edgecombe as he has relations there, and a
particular "liking" for a particular place
down there.
The person who will apprehend him and make him write to his
relations at home, shall pay $50 reward and
"ask no questions."
"So mote it be", if they shall bring him to
"court"
Given under my hand and seal this sixth day of June in the year
of Our Lord eighteen hundred and fifty two.
Richard
Henry Lewis (Seal).
Give my best love to all my relations, and tell Cousins Mary & Kate that I am one of the saddest, dreariest,
loneliest old bachelors on Earth, And that I'd give worlds, and all they
contained, for one glimpse of their sprightly faces. I think it would cheer me
on my journey through life, which I have just commenced.
We are all well at home although there is a great deal of sickness around us.
Three of our class couldn't speak at Commencement for that reason.
I reckon this is the last time you will hear, from
Chapel Hill, from your most
affect. nephew ( as Gov.
Swain
calls me
Ricardus Henricus Lewis.
"I'm done" as the fellow said.
R. H. L.